Best Buds 100 Ways
by DinerGuy
Summary: A collection of fics of varying lengths celebrating the unstoppable duo of Shawn and Gus, using a list of 100 prompts. Chapter notes will carry any applicable warnings.
1. Introduction

_A/N: So I started writing these for a ficathon that Psychfic was hosting, and I kind of forgot to post them here. I have a tiny bit of catching up to do as far as posting them, so I'm going to add everything I have written so far in one go. :) Then I'll come back and add in the others as I write them._

 _All are standalone one-shots, unless otherwise stated._

 _Standard disclaimers apply, and nobody betaed these, so all errors are on my end._

* * *

" _I'm Shawn Spenstar, and this is my partner, Gus 'T.T' Showbiz… Gee Buttersnaps… Silly Pants Jackson… Donut Holstein… Hummingbird Saltalamacchia…"_

Shawn's whole "and this is my partner" routine had long since become a habit to both friends. And although Gus often acted annoyed and indignantly corrected him, he had to admit that he'd become used to it. He'd never admit it to Shawn, but it was a comforting constant in his universe; the handful of times when Shawn blanked, Gus would find himself missing the ridiculous introduction.

And so, out of everything that could be going through Gus's mind right then, that was the thing on which he found himself stuck.

"Sir?" the paramedic prompted again, yanking Gus out of his reverie.

Gus blinked and looked up. "Hm?"

"Sir, are you okay?" the uniformed brunette adjusted the blanket draped around Gus's shoulders. "What's your name?" She had his wallet in her hand, Gus noticed belatedly. Shouldn't she know? Then, even more belatedly, he realized why she was asking him the question.

"Right. Um, Gus… I mean, uh, Burton. Guster," he added as an afterthought.

"I tried telling them your name was Perry W. Inkle." The sound of Shawn's hoarse voice made Gus jump.

Gus looked to his right to see Shawn sitting on the edge of the ambulance next to him. A square of gauze was taped to the side of Shawn's forehead, but he seemed okay overall.

"But they wouldn't believe me, and you weren't paying attention to back me up," Shawn continued to complain. He made a face and shrugged. "Sorry, bud."

"Shawn," Gus frowned, "she knows that's not my real name; she has my ID right there."

"Oh." Shawn shrugged. "Well, I've heard it both ways."

The paramedic just chuckled and handed Gus his wallet back. "I think you two are going to be just fine," she said, shaking her head with a grin.

"Of course we are," Shawn nodded seriously. Then he smirked at Gus. "Does this mean we can have that _A-Team_ marathon this afternoon after all? We do need to rest, right?" he prompted. "And Jules and Lassie just arrested the bad guy, so our case is closed."

Gus smiled and nodded. "You know that's right," he agreed, returning Shawn's fistbump.


	2. Love

9-year-old Shawn stuck his head around the corner of the doorway. His best friend was sitting at the kitchen table, intently bent over… something. Shawn couldn't tell what from where he was standing - although he did have a pretty good idea.

"Gus!" he exclaimed, coming up beside the other boy. "Whatcha doin'?"

Gus jumped at the sudden voice, then turned his less-than-impressed gaze on Shawn. "Don't scare me like that," he complained. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"On what?" Shawn poked at the pile of red construction paper Gus had neatly assembled beside him.

"You know what, Shawn. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and I'm _trying_ to get this heart shape perfect." Gus made a face as he put down his scissors and unfolded the paper in his hands. "But they keep coming out crooked! I can't give Valerie a lopsided Valentine!"

"Sure you can," Shawn shrugged. "Just tell her it's unique."

Gus wrinkled his nose. "That won't work." He sighed. "And then I have to make the rest of my cards too… this is gonna take forever."

Shuffling through the stack of discarded attempts, Shawn held one up. "This looks like a pineapple!"

"Pineapples have nothing to do with Valentine's Day, Shawn," Gus said, shaking his head.

Unfazed, Shawn reached for the scissors. "Well, not usually. But they _could_ too have something to do with it. And then you'd really have the uniquiest cards out of everybody!"

"'Uniquiest' isn't a word," Gus corrected.

Shawn made a face. "It could be."

"Shawn."

"Look!" Shawn proudly held up the red paper in his hand.

Gus had to admit that _did_ kind of resemble something like the fruit in question. If he squinted anyway.

With a nod of decision, Shawn reached for one of the markers that Gus had lined up on the table in front of him. "Look, dude, just add a few lines here and there, and you have a Valentine's Day pineapple! I guarantee you're going to get noticed with this baby!" He grinned widely. "Here, I can help you!"

He was right, Gus had to admit. And if his cards got noticed more than the others… "Okay, fine. But _I'm_ making Valerie's pineapple."


	3. Light

"But Gus, my dad said to 'pack light.'"

Gus crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Shawn. _'_ _Pack light.'_ Not, 'Pack _a_ light.'"

"Oh." Shawn paused, considering the flashlight in his hand. "Well, you never know when you'll need one of these." He shrugged and stuffed it back inside the front pocket of his black suitcase. "What if the power goes out?"

"That doesn't solve the issue that you have a whole extra suitcase on top of the one each that we're supposed to be bringing." Gus gave a pointed look at the pair of bags that were currently stacked on top of Shawn's desk.

Shawn spread his hands to either side. "Gus, buddy, are you just going to overlook that fact that I'm packed and ready to go and we still have…" he looked at his watch, "twenty minutes before it's time to leave?"

"I'd be more impressed if you'd followed the rules, Shawn," Gus retorted. "You better have brought cash too because no way am I paying the extra bag fee for that when we get to the airport."

Making a face, Shawn put one of his suitcases on the floor and unzipped it, then opened the second that was still on his desk. "Can we fit some of my stuff in your bag?"

Gus started to shake his head, but then Shawn held up a plastic bag full of fun-sized candy bars.

"I bet you could stick this in with your clothes!" Shawn said. He grinned and reached into his luggage for a second package of treats. "It's kind of squishy where it could fit."

Taking a step closer, Gus peered over Shawn's shoulder. "Do you _just_ have food in there?" he asked, almost incredulous but then remembering who it was to whom he was talking.

"Yep," Shawn nodded in response, currently busy stuffing three plastic bags of dried pineapple chunks alongside his somewhat-folded jeans. "Hey, if we can't fit all this in here, does this mean we have to eat it before Dad pulls up?"

Gus raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"Well, now you've made it one!" Shawn replied gleefully. He tossed a plastic container of what looked like M&Ms to his friend. "Bet I can finish first!"


	4. Dark

10 years old or not, Burton Guster was not afraid of the dark.

No sir. Not him.

That was a silly fear anyway. What could the dark _actually_ do to him? It was just the absence of light, really. What was that going to hurt?

He told himself this even as his eyes darted around the interior of the small tent, but then his mind so helpfully supplied all of the things the darkness could be concealing, and Gus swallowed hard.

On second thought, why had he allowed Shawn to convince him to convince his parents that he should go camping with the Spencers? Now he was going to die in his sleeping bag from… something. He wasn't sure exactly what. There might be a rogue bear or a mountain lion who got really, really lost… and if they were lost, they might be hungry, and if they were hungry—

"Gus!" Shawn's hissed whisper, accompanying the sudden _riiippp_ sound of the tent's zipper being undone, was the last thing Gus had been expecting.

He threw his pillow the short distance to the tent's opening, catching Shawn in the side of the head. "Shawn! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"'Almost,'" Shawn repeated, and Gus could practically see the grin that Shawn's tone implied. "But not actually."

Gus swallowed and cleared his throat. "Shawn, what are you still doing awake? Your dad sent us to bed hours ago."

"You're still awake," Shawn pointed out. Before Gus could retort, his friend continued, "Wanna go inside?"

Blinking, Gus inclined his head. "What? Shawn, we're supposed to be camping."

"Well, my dad wants us to be learning something about survival skills," Shawn admitted, "but," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I think every bug in Santa Barbara is after me. Besides," he continued, his tone rising back to its previous volume, "I know a way inside around all the squeaky floorboards. We can sleep in my bed tonight and then be back out here before my dad wakes up."

Gus wrinkled his nose. Shawn's plans never seemed to… well, never really go according to plan. However, the more Gus thought about it, the more he was starting to like the idea. Any plan that involved him not having to sleep on the hard ground all night was starting to sound like a very good plan. And then all it took was for him to think back to the possible wild animals that could be roaming around—neighborhood or no neighborhood—and he swallowed and nodded. "Okay fine. We'll do it, but if we get caught, remember this is all your idea."

Shawn grinned. "We're not going to get caught. I told you: we'll pull this off and be back in our sleeping bags before Dad even wakes up in the morning. It'll be fine!"

As Gus followed Shawn across the backyard and toward the Spencer house, he couldn't shake the feeling that Henry Spencer was just waiting to pounce on the duo as soon as they stepped foot in the house. By the time Shawn turned the doorknob, Gus was starting to wonder if a black bear really would be that much worse right about then...


	5. Seeking Solace

_A/N: I now have a headcanon that this is half the reason Shawn freaked out so much in "Gus Walks Into a Bank," and you can't convince me it's not._

* * *

Gus still wasn't sure how he and Shawn had managed to build the treehouse without killing themselves or each other, and frankly, he was surprised Mr. Spencer hadn't killed either of them—but mostly Shawn—during the process either. But apparently, it was good experience for the two sixth graders, and they had actually gotten through the construction unscathed.

Well, for the most part. Shawn had hit his thumb with the hammer that one time.

And now, Gus poked his head through the door at the top of the ladder. It was starting to get dark outside, and the interior of the small, wooden structure was unlit. But he knew Shawn, which meant he knew Shawn would be sitting in the far corner, knees up to his chest, staring into the dimly lit distance.

Shawn wouldn't admit to anyone—not even Gus—how much recent events were bothering him. Gus knew, though; they had been friends long enough that Gus knew. And, honestly, the situation had already gotten to Gus, and he wasn't the one whose dad was on the police force. Granted, he was a sympathetic crier, but it was tough on everyone in Santa Barbara to see the news report of a cop being killed. All because two idiots decided to hold up a bank as the officer was making a quick deposit on his lunch break.

Sure enough, as Gus's eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see Shawn's figure a few feet away. Clambering to his feet, he shuffled over and dropped down beside his friend. Shawn glanced his way, offered a small quirk of a half-smile, then went back to staring into the distance.

That was okay, Gus decided. They didn't need to talk.

They could just sit side by side, shoulders touching, watching nothing in solidarity.

For now, that was solace enough.


	6. Break Away

Shawn showing back up to town and dragging him into the craziness that was Psych was the first time in years that Gus had allowed himself to consider something other than the traditional life that his parents had. He'd envisioned himself getting a comfortable office job, moving up in the corporate world, saving money from every paycheck until he was in his fifties, then retiring and living the good life with his hobbies to keep him busy. It was how the Gusters had always done things, and Gus didn't see any reason to change that.

But then Shawn had come back, arriving in a cloud of dust on his motorcycle and proposing the craziest thing Gus had heard since his friend had left town years before. How Shawn had ever come up with the idea that being a fake psychic was the way to go was beyond Gus. He couldn't imagine ever having that thought. Shawn was Shawn, though, and Gus had long since grown used to the fact that it was impossible to predict what crazy idea Shawn was going to have next.

Yet somehow, in the midst of the great misadventure known as the McCallum case, Gus had discovered just how much he had missed the shenanigans that came about whenever he was with Shawn. Ever since they'd met as kids, they'd had a bond, even if it was for a reason Gus had never quite been able to explain and had driven his parents nuts.

And so Gus had become the walking definition of a breakaway, diverging radically from what had long been established as normal, but he wouldn't have it any other way.


	7. Heaven

"Gus! Gus, hurry up! Turn it on!" Shawn exclaimed, bursting through the door with a pizza box in each hand.

"You're the first one through the door. _You_ turn it on!" Gus was right behind his friend, his hands full of three shopping bags and a carton of drinks. "We've already missed the first ten minutes because you had to stop at a second store on the way back."

Shawn deposited his load on the coffee table and then glanced around the room, searching for something. "Gus, don't be the hole in the bottom of the sea. You can't have a _Star Wars_ marathon without snacks."

"The remote is on your desk where you left it last night," Gus said, then shook his head. "Besides, we _have_ snacks," he rebutted. "Five different pints of ice cream and a bag of gummy worms is plenty."

By now, Shawn had found the remote, flipped on the television, and was flicking through channels. Finally locating the one he wanted, he dropped to the sofa and reached for one of the pizza boxes. Gus shook his head again and then hurried to put the ice cream in the freezer for later. Then he grabbed a stack of napkins and settled onto the sofa next to Shawn.

This was the good life, he decided as he reached across Shawn for the pizza box, from which a cheesy, doughy aroma was emanating. As insane and slightly unbelievable as things often were with Shawn, they were still best friends like they had been since they were tiny children stressing out their parents. It was a crazy existence sometimes, but Gus wouldn't trade it for anything. He was fairly certain that nothing could be closer to heaven on earth than his life right then.


	8. Innocence

Wide eyes stared back at him. "I didn't do it, Shawn."

"I know, buddy." Shawn felt his stomach clench as he replied. "I know."

"But they said—"

"I don't care what they said," Shawn interrupted, cutting off the despair he could hear in his buddy's voice. This was so different than their normal cases, even the others that involved solving a murder for the police department. Of course, all of those cases were serious, even if Shawn and Gus did like to tackle them all with humor and their fair share of 80s references and snack breaks. This one, though… this one was serious if ever a case was serious.

Gus swallowed and nodded, grasping the black phone in his hand even tighter. "I'm sorry I can't help you with this case." He paused and sighed heavily. "I just… I don't even know where to start. Shawn, they framed me. Whoever they are, they must have had a reason, but I can't figure out who would _want_ to, much less why."

Shawn looked Gus straight in the eyes. "Don't worry; I'll find them. I promise you, Gus," he said, putting a hand to the glass in front of him, "I'm going to figure this out, even if I have to stay up every night the rest of the week and beg fifteen favors from Lassie."

Lifting his chin, Gus put his hand up as well, lining up with Shawn's on the other side of the barrier. He swallowed again and met his friend's gaze. "I know you will, Shawn."


	9. Drive

There was a method to the madness, Gus knew. He knew that as surely as he knew any of the million different random trivia facts he had stored away for just the right moment.

Shawn had a reason for doing the things that he did. There was a motivation behind Shawn's case-solving that didn't necessarily seem obvious at first glance. It might seem to some that he was doing it just for fun (which was probably partly it) or that he was bored (which was also a good bet some of the time).

But Gus knew there was more to Shawn and his reasoning than met the eye. There was this drive that had been instilled in Shawn from a young age, where his curiosity met the real world and his knack for puzzle-solving was put to work. Shawn was a good guy, and Gus knew the idea that he could help others while making a living and having fun was the perfect scenario for Shawn.

More than anyone else, except for maybe Henry Spencer, Gus could see the drive inside his best friend. And if he stopped and thought about it, Gus had to admit that he had that drive as well. Maybe not as intensely as Shawn seemed to have it at times, but it was there all the same. Gus hadn't realized just how good he was at solving mysteries until Shawn had come back to town and roped him into the private detective business, but Gus didn't regret going along with it at all. Well, maybe he did at times (mostly when he thought about all the near-death experiences he'd had because of Psych), but it was the exact thing he'd never known he'd needed in his life.

Of course, he'd never really let Shawn in on that fact, but that didn't change how true it really was.


	10. Breathe Again

Four curious things happened that day.

The first was that Shawn was at the bus stop before Gus got there. That was strange because Gus was always the first one there (some days, Shawn barely made it before the big yellow bus rolled to a stop and opened its doors).

The second was that he was sitting on the sidewalk, chin in his hands. Gus couldn't remember ever seeing his friend look so dejected, especially not this early in the morning (tired, yes, but not glum).

The third wasn't so much a thing as it was a feeling. The minute Shawn had seen Gus's sneakers and looked up to meet his eyes, there had been a look to them that told Gus something was definitely going on. It was enough to make Gus's breath catch in his throat as he surveyed his friend (and he would have sat beside Shawn, but there was no telling what would transfer from the pavement, and no way was he showing up at school with stained dress pants).

"What's wrong?" he asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

Shawn wrinkled his nose. "Gus, my dad set my alarm clock for an hour earlier than normal! Without telling me!"

"What?" Gus blinked.

"And then I _tried_ to go back to sleep, but I only dozed off, and then Dad said since I was up, I needed to get ready and head out here." Shawn sighed. "He said something about yesterday being the last time he was driving me to school because I missed the bus."

Gus let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That's it?" he asked, finally breathing normally again.

"What do you mean that's it? Isn't that enough?" Shawn still looked extremely displeased.

Shaking his head, Gus shifted his backpack. Leave it to Shawn to nearly give him a heart attack over another of Henry Spencer's lessons.

Oh, and the fourth curious thing? Was that Gus wasn't actually surprised at all. He supposed this meant he'd been around the Spencers too long.


	11. Memory

Shawn frowned as he studied the papers in his hands.

From across the room, Gus watched him curiously. He had that "clue" face on again, which meant they'd be cracking yet another case before much longer.

He'd always been impressed with Shawn's memory. Even as kids, Shawn was always able to recall things that no one else remembered. While it was annoying at times, Gus didn't let it discourage him from doing anything he wanted to do. If anything, he let it push him harder, motivate him further. He was already naturally competitive, and he'd soon surpassed many of the other kids in his class. But not Shawn. The two of them had somehow hit it off the first time they met, and they'd become fast friends. Gus couldn't actually remember the first time he'd found out about Shawn's eidetic memory, but his friend hadn't really broadcast it either.

After that, it had become a competition of sorts to see who could be better at all kinds of things. Gus hadn't let Shawn's leg up in the memory department stop him from trying his best at everything—and to his surprise, he actually managed to keep up with his friend in most areas. Not every area, but more than he'd expected.

Now that they were working together at Psych, Shawn far outdistanced him in the recall department, but that was okay with Gus. He was still letting his friend push him though, and Gus found that his own memory was improving even more since he'd been working with Shawn. There were little things Gus knew he wouldn't have picked up before that he now noticed almost subconsciously—and then surprised himself when he recalled them. He never would have thought so even a week before Shawn had come back to Santa Barbara, but he was actually learning a lot from this new friendly competition between them both—and Gus was definitely winning in the "recalling random facts that actually help solve the case" category.

"Gus! It was the bellhop!" Shawn suddenly yelled, jumping up from his seat. "To the Blueberry!"

He just needed to work on the "recalling enough random things to put the pieces together" part.


	12. Insanity

This was insanity.

Gus stared at the newspaper in his hands, unsure of what an appropriate reaction would be at the moment. "Shawn, did you _see_ this article?"

"Yeah," Shawn replied, shrugging.

"The press is having a field day! You accused poor Washington of a felony!"

"But it makes perfect sense!" Shawn protested.

"He's the aquarium's newest attraction, Shawn!"

"And what better alibi than being locked in a cage?"

"He's an octopus!"

"And a very devious one," Shawn nodded. "Besides, didn't you just show me that article about how they're super clever?"

Gus frowned. "Not so you could call one a burglar!"

Shawn tapped his temple. "Trust me, buddy. Washington totally did it. Jules just needs to get a warrant to search the sneaky little guy's cave. I bet you we'll find the director's prized pocket watch along with a bunch of other shiny things."

"Doesn't change the fact that we'll probably never work in this city again," Gus sighed. "Did you even read this?" He was already calculating lost income in his head, and it wasn't good.

"Relax, buddy! Any publicity is good publicity, right?"

"Not this, Shawn. This is _terrible_ publicity!"

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn shrugged. "Besides, check out the Psych email! Seems everyone wants to hire the guys who aren't afraid to accuse even the smallest of creatures if the seashell fits."

Gus made a face but didn't correct his friend's phrasing. He was too busy scrolling through his inbox. "Wow… Shawn, you're right!"

Shawn grinned. "Of course I am." Just then, his phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it. "Gus, good news! Jules might have threatened me if Washington doesn't turn out to be the right culprit, but she also got the warrant for us. Want to be in on a search of an amphibian's house?"

"Octopuses are cephalopods, Shawn," Gus rolled his eyes.

"Heard it both ways!" Shawn declared, already out of his seat. "Come on! I don't want to miss this!"


	13. Misfortune

Shawn hadn't planned on staying in Santa Barbara long. He honestly wasn't even sure why he'd moved back in the first place. After all, he'd spent years avoiding his hometown for too many reasons to count. It was easier to just stay away and never think about coming back. And then once he did come back, he'd avoided telling anyone he was there until he finally wound up in such a bizarre set of circumstances that he'd somehow ended up reaching out to Gus again.

He hadn't realized just how much his friend had meant to him, even after going so many years without talking to him, until Gus was actually standing in front of him again. Then all of the memories of their years of friendship had come rushing back, and Shawn hadn't liked that guilty feeling that had started nagging at his chest.

The whole running-away-from-home thing had really seemed like the best option when he'd first chosen that path, and he had always thought he'd made the right decision when he'd left. But that day, he'd realized just how much of a misfortune it had been for him to have left town. Sure, he'd done some growing as a person, mostly in the gaining-new-life-skills category of growing, but he'd also missed out on so many year of friendship and shenanigans.

And now, Shawn was determined to get as much of that missed time in as he could. That's part of the reason why he'd roped Gus into starting Psych with him. Gus was great to have around for his vast bank of random knowledge and his Super Smeller… or Sniffer… whatever he called his nose. But Shawn also wanted to spend as much time with Gus as he could from then on out. He was going to make up the misfortune of the time together they'd lost, whether Gus realized the reason behind it or not.


	14. Smile

"It's time to turn that frown upside down!" Shawn chirped.

His comment didn't work. Gus was still glowering at him.

"Aw, come on. Don't be such a gloomy Gus. Did I know we were going to get stuck here when I suggested we come investigate the homeowner?" Shawn didn't wait for Gus to reply before answering his own question. "No, no I did not. I'm not psychic for real you know."

"Oh, no, you're not. You just pretend you are," Gus finally spoke up, huffing a little as he replied. "And then you take cases without asking me for my input, and we end up in trouble." He looked around meaningfully to accentuate his point.

Shawn leaned forward so that his nose was touching his friend's. "Well, how was I supposed to know we'd end up locked in the coat closet because the burglar came back and heard us jump in here to hide?"

"Why did we both have to hide here in the first place?" Gus complained. "I _told_ you there was no room."

Shawn smiled. "And yet you followed me in."

"You pushed me in and then jumped in behind me!"

"I've heard it both ways."

"No, you have not!"


	15. Silence

"Shawn!" Gus hissed, looking around with wide eyes. It didn't matter how hard he strained to see, it was completely dark. "You better not be pulling your Wilting Flower act on me again or so help me I will—"

"Will what?"

Gus barely resisted the urge to scream at the sudden sound of Shawn's voice in his ear. "Shawn!"

"Shh, Gus, not so loud," Shawn remarked, although by the lilt in his voice, Gus knew he was smirking. "They might hear you."

"Who might hear me? There's nobody here!"

Even though Gus couldn't see his friend's face, he just knew Shawn was quirking an eyebrow at him. "We're here investigating a potential haunting, right? Well, what if there _are_ ghosts and they're not happy you're disturbing the peace?"

Gus wasn't even sure how to respond to that one. He rolled his eyes, knowing Shawn wouldn't be able to see his expression. "Right. Because we're real psychic detectives who can scare off the ghosts who have been stealing our client's snacks."

"Gus, don't be that guy who claims to be from Microsoft tech support," Shawn sniffed. "Our client didn't hire us to find his missing snacks. He hired us to find who stole his antique coin collection; he just thinks it's the guy who minted the coins who's mad that they're not in a museum. And the snacks didn't go missing until you checked the kitchen anyway…" Shawn trailed off and gasped. "Gus! _You're_ the granola thief!"

"I was hungry!" Gus defended himself. "You made me skip dinner to work this case."

"Oh, so now it's my fault?"

"Yes! Because if you'd let me eat my burrito, then I wouldn't be in need of nourishment right now!" Gus cleared his throat. "Besides, we should probably figure out a way out of this garage before it gets too much later. We're supposed to be working right now."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that door locked automatically?" Shawn complained.

Then, a noise from somewhere to their left rattled in the quiet around them, and both friends instinctively clutched each other.

"Gus, did you hear that?" Shawn hissed.

"If that was some trick of yours, I'm gonna kill you," Gus whispered back.

"Maybe it's the ghosts?"

Gus swallowed. "Nuh-uh, Shawn. No way. You're not tricking me like that."

They both fell silent. The seconds ticked by, and both friends practically held their breath as they strained to listen for any further sounds.

Still nothing.

Shawn had just opened his mouth to say something when the door to the house flew open and they both screamed.

The homeowner stood there, blinking in surprise. "I certainly hope I'm paying you for more than these shenanigans," he grumbled.

Recovering from his shock, Shawn released Gus's arms and stepped back, grinning widely. "As a matter of fact, yes! I have solved the case of your missing coins!" He strode inside, brushing past the client and then turning back to face the man. "Better check with your cousin; he's upset you didn't share those coins you inherited. He found your hide-a-key and helped himself."

"Oh…" the man said, nodding slowly as he tried to follow Shawn's rapid-fire revelation. "So… no ghosts?"

"Nope!" Shawn tapped his temple. "Just some cobwebs in the garage. Come on, Gus! We're missing happy hour at the taco truck!"

Gus gave the homeowner a nervous smile and a handshake. "Thanks for the opportunity, Mr. Bradley. Let us know if we can help you again." With a parting nod, he hurried after Shawn. "Shawn! Wait up! I'm the one who drove anyway." Then a thought occurred to him as he reached the front door, and he paused and felt in his pocket. Then his eyes grew wide. "Shawn, get back here! Stealing someone's car is a felony you know!"


	16. Questioning

Questioning everything was how he solved all of the cases that came across his path. Even before he'd decided to pretend he was a psychic, Shawn had solved many cases. Some watching the nightly news, others when friends or acquaintances asked for his help. In fact, he'd paid a lot of his bills during the years he was on the road by solving cases of varying sizes. But this one… this case was by far one of the simplest he'd ever seen.

"Gus!" he exclaimed, popping up from where he'd been slouching in his desk chair. " _You_ took my Oreos!"

Gus gave him a look across the room. "Why would I do that, Shawn?"

"Because you were hungry and you were trying to save money and not order takeout again," Shawn was quick to defend his deduction.

After a moment, Gus sighed. "Here." He reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a blue bag. "I didn't eat all of them."

Shawn grinned as he caught the package that Gus tossed to him. "Don't worry, Gus. I ordered enough takeout for both of us."

"We're trying to _save_ money on the bills, Shawn!"

"I've heard it both ways. Hey, there's the delivery guy!"


	17. Blood

Gus was honestly surprised injuries didn't happen to either Shawn or him more often. With the way Shawn regularly approached cases and murder suspects, it was shocking he hardly ever ended up in the hospital. But then again, he realized, he should stop being surprised when it came to Shawn. Nothing ever happened "normally" no matter how much Gus wished it would. (If it did, then maybe they could just be normal private investigators and not have to keep up this ridiculous fake psychic charade they had going.)

He would appreciate it if things could happen normally, he decided as he fought to keep his gag reflex in check. His stomach would probably thank him if it could, because he wasn't as much of an "iron guts" kind of a guy as he wished most of the time.

But then some days, like today, he was actually considering killing Shawn himself. Recently closed case on an action movie set or not, Gus was _not_ pleased to find Shawn had… borrowed a bag of fake blood from the special effects department. He was even less pleased that Shawn had decided to stash it in his desk drawer and give him a heart attack.

Sometimes, Gus really regretted having said yes to that first case.


	18. Rainbow

"Come on, Gus; this isn't like the time I accused that guy of being a leprechaun," Shawn complained.

"This is exactly like that time!" Gus shot back. "You literally looked him in the face and called him a leprechaun."

Shawn nodded slowly and smirked. "Okay, fine. But you know it's true."

"You know that's right," Gus replied before catching himself. "But it doesn't matter! You can't go around insulting people like that!"

"Come on, buddy. You know, if he's our bank robber, then he's even got a pot of gold!"

Gus sighed. He hated to admit it, but his partner was right. So Gus nodded and squared his shoulders. He was just glad Shawn was doing the reveal, although Gus knew deep down that he would do whatever his friend needed him to do. That was how their team worked. It was odd to the outside viewer, but there was a dynamic between Shawn and Gus that had been developed over years of friendship and now partnership. They might embarrass each other sometimes, but at the end of the day, they'd do whatever the other needed them to do.

That was just what best friends did.


	19. Gray

It's about an hour after lunch when it happens, although the only thing about the escapade that surprises Amy is that it's one o'clock by the time it does. She's kind of used to it happening before breakfast.

Everyone's off doing their own thing. A few folks are watching the black and white western currently on the television in the main room, two ladies crocheting near the window are comparing notes on their afghans, and a group of several others has a card game going at the table.

Then there's a sudden commotion in the hallway, complete with the sound of tires screeching on tile as someone rounds a corner and two male voices raised in argument. Not angry, of course; never that. More like friendly bickering, bantering that goes back and forth and usually includes references to old movies, television, or music from the 1980s and 90s. And sure enough, when Amy sticks her head into the hallway to make sure everything's okay, she finds just what she expects to see.

One of the home's residents, Mr. Spencer, is mid-complaint. "Come on, Gus! You can't just cut in front of me like that!"

His companion, also in a wheelchair but bald and lacking the gray hair of the first, makes a face. "Nuh-uh, Shawn. If anyone cheated, it was you. There are rules to this game you know."

"But you said the winner is whoever gets to the far end of the hall first. You never said there were rules!"

Mr. Guster rolls his eyes. "There are always rules!" he protests, even as he glances over and sees Amy standing in the doorway. He smiles and winks. "Hello," he greets in his flirty voice that Amy and every other female employee have long since gotten used to by now. But it's not gross like some of the men can be here; more like charming and sweet, and Amy's not offended at all.

"Hey, Ames!" Mr. Spencer's seen her now, too, and he smiles widely. "How's it going?"

"I'm fine," she chuckles, then puts on her best stern voice, "but you know you're not supposed to be drag racing down the hallway."

"This is nothing like the last time," Mr. Spencer reasons, nodding at her. " _That_ time, Gus almost ran down the director."

"That was you, not me," Mr. Guster grumbles.

Mr. Spencer continued as if his friend hadn't said a word. "This time, nobody else was around. We checked," he added with a smirk.

Meanwhile, one of the newest hires at the home comes running up behind Amy, his eyes wide. "Is everything okay?" he asks, panting slightly. He glances around the small group, then looks at Amy. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Rob," Amy tells him, shaking her head in amusement. "Have you met Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster yet?" She's pretty sure he hasn't; he's only been on the job for a day. Give him a few more days, though, and he'd be long-used to the antics of many of the staff's favorite residents.

"Bobby!" Mr. Spencer chirps. He shifts in his seat and winks at the young man. "You know, you shouldn't look so nervous. I'm sure she'll say yes."

Rob's eyes go wide at that, and he looks over at Amy before looking back at Mr. Spencer. "Wh… what?"

"Just relax; you'll do great."

Beside him, Mr. Guster nods along. "Mhm," he agrees. "You look like you got game, brother."

"How'd you know?" Rob asks. His eyes are still wide.

Amy hides a chuckle behind her hand. This never gets old.

In response, Mr. Spencer just smiles and taps his temple. "Trust me, kid." Then he turns to his friend and raises an eyebrow. "Last one to the porch is a rotten pineapple!"

Shaking her head, Amy starts after them. She stops and glances back at Rob, who's still looking shocked. "You get used to it. He was a psychic for the police department, you know." She enjoys the look of awe that crosses her co-worker's face, then turns back to see the elderly duo taking the corner at the end of the hall. She knows they won't listen, but she still calls it out anyway as she runs after them. "Come on, you guys! No more racing, remember?"

Mr. Spencer's reply echoes back down the hallway to her. "You have to catch us first, Ames!"


	20. Fortitude

Before Shawn had returned and pulled him into the crazy misadventure that was called Psych, Gus hadn't realized just how much courage he really had. Granted, he always had liked to think he had a lot, but it had never truly been tested. Sure, he and Shawn had gotten into various scrapes as kids and things had happened in his life, but Gus had honestly had it pretty good over the years.

And then Shawn came back and every single ounce of Gus's bravery and grit had been trusted. Sure, he screamed a lot, but it was a manly sort of screaming and totally understandable given the various circumstances. (Besides, his iron guts could only take so much.)

But the resilience that it took to handle all of the things their cases threw at them? Including numerous deadly weapons pointed Gus's way? That took a whole other level of strength that Gus hadn't known existed within him.

Not to mention what it took to simply put up with Shawn day in and day out. If anything, Gus was pretty sure he deserved a medal for that.


	21. Vacation

Gus was always saying he needed a vacation from Psych, although Shawn was fairly certain his friend was just exaggerating. After all, how many people got the chance to help solve some of the city's worst crimes? Sure it was dangerous sometimes, but it was also fun, and Shawn was sure Gus couldn't possibly find a better way to spend his time. If anything, Psych was a vacation _from_ Gus's boring job at the pharmaceutical company!

But over time, Shawn started noticing little things about Gus that he hadn't really paid attention to before. Or, if he had, he'd just chalked them up to putting in late nights solving certain cases or having yet another late-night Mario Kart tournament. Things like bags under Gus's eyes that suddenly seemed more pronounced when Shawn started tracking how long his friend had them there. Or things like Gus being a little slower to correct him when Shawn mispronounced a word (one that, of course, he knew but wanted to mess with Gus by saying wrong). Or Gus answering the Psych phone with his greeting for the pharmaceutical company.

And so, that was when Shawn decided to surprise his buddy with a little getaway from Psych. They'd close up the office, let the Chief know they'd be gone, and go off on some adventure or another. Shawn had been trying to decide between a trip to a pineapple farm or an amusement park, but then he remembered Gus throwing up after one too many roller coasters when they were kids and decided the pineapple farm would be a better choice.

Since he had Gus's credit card numbers memorized, it didn't even take very long to book the trip. He couldn't wait to tell Gus when his buddy arrived at the office later that afternoon. Gus was going to be so surprised!


	22. Mother Nature

This is why I hate hiking. Even hiking with the proper equipment is not my favorite way to spend any part of my day. But hiking when I'm not prepared because I'm in my dress clothes from the office job from which Shawn dragged me away to chase some wild theory through the forest? I really hate that.

On top of that, the wild theory we're chasing through the forest involves a client (one Shawn took on without asking me, of course) who thinks he's being stalked. By a ghost. Yeah, definitely not my favorite thing on which to be spending my afternoon.

But then Shawn sees something up ahead and yells at me to follow before plunging off on some barely discernible trail through the trees. I growl a protest under my breath, but I don't hesitate to follow him. He may be an idiot and drag me into situations that will require me to buy new shoes before I can go back to the office, but I'm not about to miss out on anything.

Just don't tell him I said that.


	23. Cat

Mrs. Pickles had to be one of the worst names for a cat that Gus had ever heard in his life. Where Shawn had come up with it, Gus did not know. But all he knew was that now he had a fake pet cat who'd had fake kittens and now he had to deal with all the very real consequences from his co-workers thinking he actually had a cat that had actually had kittens. He didn't realize how many girls were quite so crazy about cats until they all thought he had a litter of baby ones at his house.

Under any other circumstance, Gus would have been more than happy to have several of the single women in the company crowding around his desk, eager to talk to him. but now they were all asking questions about nonexistent cats, and Gus was running out of excuses not to show them pictures that they assumed were on his phone. He didn't even feel like he could ask any of them out to lunch or dinner. They would have gladly gone with him, he knew that, but the problem was that he could not stall forever. And he knew that there would only be trouble if they found out he did not actually have a cat. Or kittens. Or any pets of any kind.

Gus was quite certain that Shawn hadn't thought all of this through before he had used the "Mrs. Pickles is having kittens" excuse at Gus's office. To Shawn, it was just a way to get Gus out of work and on to the next big case. And although Gus wanted to be mad at his friend for all of the trouble that was being caused by the story, deep down, he really was intrigued by the cases that Shawn roped him into solving. That's not to say that Gus was extremely happy about the way that it all happened, but at the end of the day, he wouldn't trade any of this mess for anything else.

Well, except for maybe an excuse to ask one of his cute coworkers out without having to worry about fake kitten pictures.


	24. No Time

"You have to go, Gus!" Shawn yelled, ducking behind a pillar and then poking his head out from behind it to fire his gun. "There's no time!"

Gus made a face. "Shawn, if I leave now, we'll lose because you'll be outnumbered. And I won't let Woody and Buzz have bragging rights for the next month just because you want to act out some heroic scene and make me quit playing this game."

"It's just laser tag, Gus," Shawn said. "Let me have this, buddy!"

"Shawn, either you focus on the game or I will shoot you myself," Gus insisted. He rolled his eyes. It had been a very bad idea to have had an action movie marathon right before they came to the arcade.

He was never letting Shawn choose the movies again.


	25. Trouble Lurking

"Shawn, how long have we been on this trail?" Gus didn't give his friend the chance to respond before he continued, "That's right; an hour. An entire hour, and my feet are sore, and for what? Have we found even one clue to support your treasure-hunters theory? No, we have not. I told you following this hunch of yours would only get us into trouble."

Shawn paused mid-stride and tilted his head. "Gus, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Gus asked.

 _"That,"_ Shawn hissed.

Gus paused to listen. He was just about to tell Shawn off for crying wolf yet again when a rustle in the undergrowth nearby caught his attention. His gaze snapped to the right as his eyes widened.

"See?" Shawn demanded, his voice noticeably lower than normal.

Guys swallowed and nodded.

A second later, the sound intensified as… something came directly at the pair.

Neither Shawn nor Gus hesitated before letting out a pair of definitely not girly screams and spinning on their heels to head right back for the Blueberry... with Gus's cry of, "I'm gonna kill you, Shawn!" trailing behind them.


	26. Tears

"You know I'm a sympathetic crier, Shawn!"

"It was him or me, Gus! Shawn protested. "And I'm pretty sure you would rather I be around for a long time to come. Unless you'd rather swap me out for a new partner?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Now that's not fair, Shawn! It's just an involuntary response; you know that."

Shawn made a face. "Okay fine. But what do you want me to do with the potentially deadly spider next time he shows up?"

"Well, he _won't_ show up," Gus corrected. "Because you squished him. Poor guy."

Shawn sighed. "Fine, fine. Next time, you can catch him and let him go outside."

Gus nodded. "Fine. Now, we should probably get back to solving this case before our client finds out we haven't done any work and decides not to pay us anymore."


	27. Foreign

Strange and unfamiliar.

If there were two words Gus would use to describe the turn his life had taken the day Shawn had shown up again, those would be his top choices. Well, maybe those and dangerous. (Definitely dangerous.)

But somehow, he'd come to add another word to that mix: familiar. And not in a boring way. No, exciting was also another word to add. But it all had come to have a sense of comfort and home as well.

Gus had never imagined the words home and foreign could be so closely intertwined, but even though Psych was the antithesis of the goal toward which he'd carefully been navigating his life, somehow it all made sense.


	28. Sorrow

Gus sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "He's gone too soon," he lamented.

Beside him, Shawn nodded sadly. "He had years and years of love left to give. If only he'd had a chance to give it."

"What?" Gus's brow furrowed. "Shawn, I had that fish for two whole years since Mom and Dad let me pick him out for winning the science fair in third grade."

Shawn just shrugged. "Poor Mr. Barnacle Bait," he said, leaning down to stare into the bowl where a small gray fish was floating.

"That's not his name," Gus sighed in exasperation. "It's Sir Isaac Newfin, remember?"

Smirking, Shawn straightened back up, then clapped his friend on the back. "Come on, buddy. I'll help you flush him, and then we'll go drown your grief in milkshakes."

Gus sniffed again. "With extra whipped cream?"

"You know that's right."


	29. Happiness

"If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" The song was getting old… Gus wasn't even sure how many times he'd sung it by now. It was enough that he was starting to question the words after repeating them so many times. However, it seemed to be the only thing his baby cousin wanted to do, and her crying when he stopped singing was enough to make him willing to plod on with the song. (Although how she still thought it was amusing at this point confused him greatly.)

When a knock came at the door, Gus scooped up Ella and hurried for the front room. She started whimpering at the quick change, so Gus grabbed her teddy bear off the chair on his way out the room, which seemed to placate her for the moment. When he reached the front room, Gus had to stretch just slightly to look out the peephole. His aunt and uncle had gone to dinner with his parents, so they wouldn't need to knock, and it wouldn't be Joy because she had a key and was away at summer camp anyway (hence the reason Gus was stuck with baby duty). When he saw who it was, he immediately unlocked the door and stepped back to let his friend inside.

"Gus, come on! I can't beat Bobby McGinnis at bowling and be the talk of sixth grade if I'm not even—Dude!" Shawn interrupted himself mid-sentence. "Gus, you really _are_ baby-sitting!" he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"What?"

Shawn shrugged. "I thought you were just making up an excuse not to hang out."

Shifting Ella to his other hip, Gus glared. "Why would I lie about this?" Gus shot back. "I would much rather be at the bowling alley." Then he paused as he noticed Shawn was no longer paying attention to what he was saying. "Shawn, are you even listening?"

"Huh?" Shawn glanced up from where he'd been making a face at Ella. "You know, she actually is kinda cute."

Gus looked down and took in the little girl's wide grin as she watched Shawn, her eyes locked onto his. Gus made a face. "Yeah, until the only thing she wants to do is have you sing the same song five hundred times." He sighed. "You might as well go hang out without me," he told Shawn. "I'll be here all night because the adults are going see a movie after they eat."

"Okay," Shawn said reluctantly. "I guess I'll see you… later…" He trailed off as Ella started wailing.

As soon as Shawn turned back to face the two young Gusters, the baby stopped crying and smiled up at him. Shawn and Gus exchanged glances, then Shawn slowly stepped toward the door again, testing the waters.

Ella scrunched up her nose and started to cry.

"Boo!" Shawn exclaimed, jumping back around to face her.

She giggled at that and held her bear out to him.

"On second thought, I can't disappoint my fans," Shawn told Gus with a wink.

"What fans? She probably just thinks you look funny," Gus retorted.

Shawn was now making faces at Ella from behind the bear, but he paused long enough to raise an eyebrow at Gus. "I've heard it both ways!"


	30. Under the Rain

It was getting dark, and it had been raining all day, but still Gus stood under his umbrella and waited.

He and Shawn had made plans to meet for the opening night of a long-anticipated blockbuster, and Gus was not going to be the one to skip out on their plans.

It was foolish, he knew. There was an almost certain guarantee that Shawn would not show up. Henry had told Gus that Shawn had skipped town as soon as he could, headed to who-knew-where. But he couldn't give up on his friend.

He had a feeling deep down inside that it would be years before he would ever see Shawn again, but yet still he stood under the rain and waited.


	31. Flowers

"And rain will make the flowers groooowww—"

"What are you doing?"

The sudden question from somewhere off to his left made Gus jump and spin around quickly (and totally not scream in anything like a girly fashion).

Shawn was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. There was a goofy smirk spread across his face that he wasn't even trying to hide.

"It is not a crime to have a song stuck in your head," Gus defended himself before his friend could say anything.

"True," Shawn replied. "However, you looked like you were putting on quite the performance in the mirror there, buddy."

"Oh right, and it's not like you've ever reenacted any scene from a movie before." He gave Shawn a pointed look.

"Hey! At least when I do it, it's something exciting from an action movie or something." The smirk hadn't left his face. "You're the one in here singing a girl's part from a musical."

Gus rolled his eyes. "At least I remember all the lyrics. You're the one who was singing every Christmas carol in the book incorrectly last week."

A funny look crossed Shawn's face at that. "Bet I could sing 'The Confrontation' better than you."

"Oh yeah?" Something in Gus told him that he should refuse the challenge, but he'd never been one to back down from a dare of any sort. "You're on!"

"Great!" Shawn exclaimed happily. "I'll call Jules to judge for us. Which part do you want?"

* * *

 _A/N:_ _This was the first thing in my head from the prompt... I'm a Broadway nerd; I don't deny it._


	32. Night

"See anything, Gus?"

"Shh! Somebody's going to hear us! We are not supposed to be here in the first place!"

"Who's going to hear us? It's one in the morning!"

"Exactly!"

"What? Gus, don't be this pebble in my shoe. Who else would be out here this late?"

"I can't see a thing past my flashlight! Who knows what's lurking in these woods!"

"Hey, don't get mad at me! You were the one saying we needed a new case because—Did you hear that?"

"Nuh-uh, Shawn; you are not tricking me with that—"

"See? Gus… Gus, come back! The car's in the other direction anyway!"


	33. Expectations

_A/N: Sorry, y'all. Life got away from me. I wrote several more that I haven't posted, so you get them all at once tonight! Yay! :D_

* * *

They both knew what it was like not to live up to familial expectations.

Winnie and Bill Guster had thought their son would grow up to have a nice, steady, safe office job. Would meet a nice girl, settle down, have a nice family.

Henry Spencer literally trained his son to be a detective, taking natural skills and honing them through games and training exercises and lectures.

The bar had been set in each family. Granted, at different levels, but they both were still set. Gus did reach it for a period of time, and Shawn even took the detectives' exam once upon a time, but eventually, both left the clearly marked path and wandered off to make their own ways.

Expectations may have been failed, but deep down where none of the older generation may ever have admitted it, they knew their boys were happy, and all three were proud.


	34. Stars

They didn't have to be famous. Neither cared about that.

Well, maybe they did, but just a little. And in the grand, overall scheme of things, it weirdly didn't seem as important as they'd thought it was when they were kids.

Honestly, it was never really a thought in either of the friends' minds, other than when news cameras were nearby. Or the time they're tried out for _American Duos._

They were content to just solve cases and help people. And while game would be nice, there was this whole other aspect of doing things without the whole worker knowing that they both enjoyed.


	35. Hold My Hand

It was almost time.

The first day of first grade.

He'd gone to school before, sure, but just to kindergarten. And his parents had brought him there every day and picked him up after. This was with the big kids (there were fifth graders at this school!), and Gus wasn't sure what to expect. It was all so new.

He was sitting in the window seat, staring wide-eyed as the bus pulled up to the school building. Then from his left, he felt a hand slide into his own. Glancing over, his own dark eyes met a pair of small hazel ones.

Shawn smiled. "Betcha I impress the teacher first this year."

"Nuh-uh." The objection was nearly second nature.

Next to him, Shawn just grinned. "We got this, buddy."

Gus returned the expression, feeling much more confident as he felt his friend's fingers give a reassuring squeeze. "You know that's right."


	36. Precious Treasure

"Gus! Gus, Jules is going to kill me!" Shawn rushed into the room in a panic. "I lost…" he trailed off as he noticed his best friend seated on the floor.

Gus had a finger on his lips and was glaring at his friend. "You're going to wake her up," he hissed.

Face softening, Shawn smiled in relief. "Oh good!" he whispered, coming over to plop on the floor next to his best friend. "I thought I'd lost her for a minute."

"You did," Gus retorted, rolling his eyes. "Why else am I the one your kid fell asleep on?"

"She just got bored with your reading voice," he joked, having noted the discarded board book nearby.

Gus smacked him with his free arm.

Shawn smirked as he rubbed at his leg. "Nah, she must just like how you smell. This is, what, the third time she's fallen asleep on you this week?"

Nodding, Gus glanced down at the tiny Spencer, then made a face as he realized she was drooling on his sleeve. "She's definitely your kid," he sighed.


End file.
